The demon bowed before she vanished.
Her heart broken, Apollymi remained in her bloodied bed. She wanted to weep and to scream, but why bother? It would do no good. Her tears and pleas wouldn't prevent Archon from killing her child. His brats had him convinced that Apostolos would destroy their pantheon and replace Archon as the king of the gods.
So be it.
Her body aching, she pushed herself from the bed. "Xedrix?"
Xiamara's son appeared before her. "Yes, akra?"
"Fetch me a stone from the sea, please."
He appeared confused by her order, but he quickly complied.
When he returned, she wrapped the rock in swaddling. Weak from her son's birth and her own anger and fear, she leaned against Xedrix and held his arm. "Take me to Archon."
"Are you sure, akra?"
She nodded.
The demon helped her back to Katoteros. They appeared in the center of the hall where Archon stood with his daughters Chara and Agapa-ironically the goddesses of joy and love. The two of them had been born parthenogenically the first time Archon had looked at Apollymi. Together the goddesses had sprang out of his chest. His love for Apollymi had been legendary. Until he'd destroyed it by asking for the one thing she'd never give him.
The life of her son.
Archon's features were perfectly formed. Tall and muscular, he stood with his blond hair shining in the dim light. Truly, he was the most beautiful of all gods. Too bad that beauty was only superficial.
His blue eyes narrowed at the bundle in her arms.
"It's about time you came to your senses. Give me that child."
She moved away from Xedrix and placed the stone baby in her husband's arms.
Archon glowered at her. "What is this?"
"That is what you deserve, you bastard, and it is all you'll ever get from me."
By the light in his eyes, she knew he wanted to strike her. He didn't dare. They both knew who the stronger god was and it wasn't him. He ruled only because she stood at his side. To rise against her would be the last mistake he'd ever make.
By Chthonian law, one god was forbidden from ever killing another. To do so would bring their wrath down on the foolish god who'd angered them. The punishment for such actions was swift, brutal and irreversible.
Right now, Apollymi was embracing her rational thought over her turbulent emotions by a narrow margin. For Archon to strike her would push her over the edge and he knew it. It would make her forget to be afraid of the Chthonians and then she'd unleash the whole of her fury against him. She would no longer care who was punished and who died . . . not even herself.
Patience to the spider . . . She reminded herself of her mother's most favored saying.
She would bide her time until Apostolos grew into his own. Then he would rule in Archon's place and show the king of the gods what it meant to be all powerful.
For her son's sake, she wouldn't upset the capricious Chthonians who might very well side with Archon and kill her child. They alone could permanently strip her powers and destroy Apostolos. After all, Archon and his lover Themis's three bastard daughters had been given the power of fate over everyone and everything. And out of their stupidity and fear, the Greek Fates had accidentally cursed her son.
That alone was enough to make her want to kill her husband who stared at her with a confused frown.
"You would damn us all for one child?" Archon asked.
"You would damn my baby for three half-Greek bastards?"
His nostrils flared. "For once be reasonable. The girls didn't realize they were condemning him when they spoke. They're still learning their powers. They were afraid that he'd supplant them in our affections. It's why they were holding hands when they spoke their fears. And because of that, their word is law and it can't be undone. If he lives, we die."
"Then we die, because he will live. I've made sure of it."
Archon bellowed before he threw the swaddled stone through the wall. He reached for Agapa and Chara and began chanting.